Between Time- MCU

Alex stood just inside the threshold, frowning like someone had been tricked into walking into a spa brochure.

Soft music floated through the air, not classical, but instrumental, warm and steady. The room smelled faintly of eucalyptus and orange peel. There were oversized chairs and blankets, a kettle with tea, and a small shelf of books that didn't look fake or decorative.

A handwritten note sat on the table, in Bruce's neat pen:

"Today's exercise: Stop. Just for a little while. You're allowed to."

Alex stared at it like it might explode.

She didn't sit right away. She hovered. Scanned the walls like there was something else she was supposed to do. But nothing beeped. No alarms, no training logs, no simulation countdown.

No one watching.

Eventually, she lowered herself into the armchair in the corner, the fabric soft and heavy around her. Her bag dropped to the floor beside her with a quiet thud.

It felt too easy. Too safe.

Which was exactly why it felt so hard.

It had been fifteen minutes now and she hadn't moved. Except to sip the tea. (Wanda had guessed her preference: peppermint) Her legs were curled up beneath her now, arms around her knees.

She hated how vulnerable this felt.

Doing nothing.

Her entire life had taught her that stillness got you caught. That pausing meant danger could finally catch up. Rest wasn't part of survival. Rest was a luxury for people who had a safety net.

And now they were assigning it to her.

Part of her was still braced for someone to barge in. For Fury to appear with files. For Clint to tell her it was a test. For Natasha to say, "Just kidding, we need you in the field."

But none of that happened.

The only sound was the soft hum of music and the occasional creak of the building shifting in the wind.

And in that silence, uncomfortable and foreign, Alex noticed something strange.

Her chest didn't hurt.

For the first time in days, maybe weeks, that invisible pressure that lived behind her ribs, that sense that she had to keep moving or she'd disappear, had faded. Just a little.

She leaned her head against the armrest and let her eyes fall shut.

Only for a minute.

Just until she felt like herself again.

From down the hallway, Wanda stood at a respectful distance, watching the soft light under the door.

She didn't intrude. She didn't press.

She just smiled, just a little, and walked on.